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<title>Negative Reinforcement Therapy by Abraxas (Qlippoth)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22430692">Negative Reinforcement Therapy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qlippoth/pseuds/Abraxas'>Abraxas (Qlippoth)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Metal To Flesh [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers (Bay Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Community: hentai_contest, Crack, Fluff and Smut, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:14:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>457</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22430692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qlippoth/pseuds/Abraxas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bumblebee is worried that Sam is a reckless teenage driver. The Autobot devises a way to teach the boy how to go slow. Will it work? What if it makes Sam want to go faster?<br/>Hentai Contest 2011 Slow 1st Place</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bumblebee/Sam Witwicky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Metal To Flesh [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Negative Reinforcement Therapy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Originally Published December 13, 2010</p><hr/><p>Samuel J. Witwicky swung into the vehicle - a Camaro.</p><p>"Trip?" the boy asked.</p><p>"Yes!" the Transformer answered.</p><p>Imagine it - to be downlow with a giant alien robot! - he blushed at that thought.</p><p>Everything between them was still new; the excitement of their relationship seemed to be inexhaustible.</p><p>They drove until the suburb vanished into a desert. Soon even the smoothness of asphalt gave way to the roughness of gravel. A wilderness enveloped them.</p><p>"Sam.... Everything OK?"</p><p>"Of course, Bee!"</p><p>"Why do you hold my wheel?"</p><p>It was such a remote stretch of road that they did not need to pretend. Still, Sam gripped Bumblebee, a strange yet electric thrill that intimacy so indulged.</p><p>"Just to feel you working."</p><p>"How do I feel?" All of a sudden the seat felt warmer, softer. "How do I work?"</p><p>He wrapped the wheel tightly as it jerked about a little; he blushed, wanting it, needing it.</p><p>"Alive.... Strong.... Firm...."</p><p>"Yes ... I understand you."</p><p>An attachment appeared beneath the wheel.</p><p>"Optimus says you are not a safe driver. Your parents agree. We need to fix that."</p><p>"Is this about that?" Sam asked.</p><p>"Yes - and ... I found a way to reinforce the lesson," Bumblebee answered.</p><p>The attachment nestled between the boy's legs.</p><p>"I researched the Internet and formulated a theory about negative reinforcement therapy. I ran it by Ratchet ... so ... it should be safe."</p><p>"Safe? Er, negative reinforcement therapy? Ratchet? WTF?"</p><p>The attachment was a box - onyx with stripes of yellow - connected via cable. It settled against his bulge. Wriggling. Slithering. Exploring the contours of his package.</p><p>"You know I would not ever, ever, ever hurt you ... yet ... you need to insert your penis."</p><p>Sam looked at the attachment again - and again - and again. "Bee?"</p><p>"It will be like my mouth."</p><p>He sighed and parted his fly. The attachment hovered leaking as if salivating. He reached into his shorts. The tool enveloped with a kiss what had been yanked free. Indeed, it felt familiar. Wet with a sensation of air flowing about his flesh.</p><p>"So ... what do we do?"</p><p>"Drive ... slow, Sam, slow. You get to control the way I work - and I, too, control the way you work. If you go above 55 MPH, you will be shocked."</p><p>
  <em>"What!?"</em>
</p><p>"Yes, you will be shocked at the penis. You will associate pain with speed. You will drive slow not fast."</p><p>"OMG!"</p><p>
  <em>... LATER ...</em>
</p><p>Sam shivered from head to foot - emptying into that attachment which sparked and drooled. Bumblebee scorched the road - then slowed and slowed and slowed into a crawl.</p><p>"Sam ... what happened?"</p><p>"Bee.... I want to drive fast. I like it...."</p><p>"Do you want a ... shock?"</p><p>"Give me a second," he stroked the wheel, "just need to recover."</p><hr/><p>
  
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